Lucy Holmes
by Annie-marie6
Summary: Everybody had died on that train wreack. Lucy Pevensie was the only one left, until she became Lucy Holmes. Watch out world.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything… not matter how much I want to. I know I should be working on my Percy Jackson story right now, but this idea just wouldn't go away. Basically the finale battle happens and everyone dies and goes to new Narnia except Lucy who was sick that day. This is what happened to her.

Chapter one- Mycroft's P.O.V

She was covered in blood, filed with at least three bullets and she was getting up. I had never seen anything so extraordinary; a dagger made its way through the first shooters throat with ease and disarmed the second within seconds despite the considerable amount of pain she must have been in.

"Mercy" the shooter begged. She looked at him with dark amusement, standing there with the grace of a Queen.

"Why should I?" she said her chin raised in defiance, crimson hair tumbling down her back in waves.

"Because I didn't want to do this" he said in a rush, "I can stop. I didn't kill the woman, she's walking around somewhere right now because I _can _change"

"So you let one go" she said with scorn, "But that's nothing new"

"I spared her life," they said with anger, she wasn't amused though, her face clouded with serene fury, the look of someone who believes they could take on Gods and win.

"Yes because every now and then a little victim gets spared, because she smiled, because he had freckles, because they begged… and that's how you do it…" her voice dripped with contempt, "That's how you slaughter millions"

"Only a killer would know that" they snapped, "but you're right sometimes you just let one go… let me go." There was a shot as a bullet snaked cleanly through his head. She flinched at the noise and the recoil. She'd never fired a gun, I'd decided and I supposed that it was only natural; she couldn't be any older than fourteen.

"He was right" John, my brother's flatmate said from his poison helping the wounded, "Only a killer would know that." It was said so calmly that I'd forgotten, John may have been a combat surgeon, but a combat surgeon is still a solider.

"And if it saves someone else from having another face from haunting there dreams then I guess I'm a killer" she said callously. John however was suddenly too busy to answer as a man started to bleed out on the floor.

"Fuck" he muttered. The girl moved to sit on the floor next to him as fast as her injuries would allow, whipped of her t-shirt and used it to staunch the bleeding, both beginning to speak rather rapidly to work to save the mans life. My attention though, had captivated by her, because all across her body were scars.

There were jagged slices, small burns, a score of five scratch marks that looked like had been done repeatedly, odd star shaped marks and what looked like a _lion bite _on her shoulder and lower neck. The man on the floor was a bodyguard whom had stood in between the shooter and myself. I had no doubts that he should be dead, but neither one of them were going to let him go. They used the normal everyday objects that were lying around to perform heart surgery on the floor of my office.

"Brilliant" my brother murmured in awe. Which in enough of itself was strange, nothing other than extremely difficult murder cases had ever been dubbed brilliant. Things had started to blur as we watched them work when all of a sudden the girl had pinched me.

"You were in shock," she explained sympathetically. I noticed that the bullets had been removed from her and she'd been stitched up. I asked the first question that popped into my head.

"Who are you and how did you know about the shooters?" I said she stood there almost drowned in my little brothers coat and sighed.

"They weren't right," she said finally, "They were just… off, I was here to file for emancipation when I saw them. If they were just ordinary people there would be no harm in following them"

"Why were you filing for emancipation?" Sherlock asked it must have killed him to actually ask when he usually deduces things.

"Did you hear about that train wreak about two weeks ago?" she asked waiting for our nods of assent, "My entire family was on that train and anyone I would have gone to live with. Her voice was so soft I could barely hear it. "Anyway, I better go"

"Wait a minute, don't leave yet, you haven't even told us your name," I said with as much decorum as I could. Trying vainly not to sound like I was scared that if she walked out that door she's just slip away. "I feel I should give you something for the great service that you have done Sherlock, John and I"

"I don't take charity," she said firmly, I laughed. Oh she was going to make life interesting, provided she accepted my offer.

"No" I said, "I wouldn't dream about it, but what about a job?" She bit her lip for a moment before walking over to me and extending her hand with more grace than I had seen of women four times her age.

"Lucy, Lucy Pevensie" she said shaking my hand, I smiled.

This child, and I use that word in the loosest definition possible, had walked into my office, saved my life, killed for me, baffled my brother and preformed surgery on my floor. I doubt that life were ever allowed to be boring again and was looking forward to every minute of it.

"Mycroft Holmes" I introduced myself, "Pleasure to have you working for us, this is my brother Sherlock and his flatmate John Watson"

"Pleasure" she said taking a seat, "Now, what exactly will my job you offering be?" I sat on the other side of the desk silently coming up with an arrangement that would suit us both.

"I suppose the first thing we need to discuss is you emancipation and you're living arrangements," I said stalling for time. "Even if you'd applied for emancipation it would not have been granted, I believe that for many reasons that it would be much more simpler if we arranged for me to become you're guardian. In name only of course" I added the last bit hastily at her expression.

"You're a politician, aren't you" she said with something that sounded like delight and tiny bit of frustration. I raised my eyebrows.

"_He _will tell you that he occupies a minor role in the British government," Sherlock said scornfully indicating to me, "He'd be lying, he is the British government. Just so you know what you're in for"

"Well, now things make more sense" Lucy said brightly, "I believe you not to be lying about my emancipation, truthfully I only tried because I believe that I should give the system a fair go before taking matters into my own hands. There will be conditions to my staying with you under you're guardianship"

"Of course," I said surprised that things were going my way so easily, "Should they be reasonable I see no reason to cater to you're wishes"

"No school," she said, "That's not up for debate, I refuse to waste my time in a place that can teach me nothing that I do not already know. Secondly, I reserve the right to not answer any question I see fit." The first one I was inclined to let her have her own way on, despite being fourteen physically she has skills that most forty year olds don't. The no questions edict could be a problem.

"I will arrange for it to appear as though you are being home schooled, but the second request I have a problem with" I said, searching her face for anger or indignation. John and Sherlock, I noticed had left probably thinking that Lucy was capable of dealing with me on her own.

"Never the less you will comply with my wishes for the simple reason that you need me. I have various skills that will be useful to you not to mention that if you accept guardianship over me as a parent I become a target," she explained. "A valuable target simply for the fact that I can take care of myself, leaving you loved ones unbothered"

"That hadn't even occurred to me" I murmured, "Lucy I feel this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." We'd talked for another half an hour before the adoption papers were sent up and before the hour was over Lucy legally became Lucy Grace Ann Pevensie Holmes, my adopted daughter.

We left the office, gone to my flat, which she'd said in a voice filled with amusement didn't count as a flat when the entire top floor was included. She'd cooked some strange, yet incredibly dish foe dinner, wearing one of my shirts until we could go shopping to buy her some new clothes and shortly after dinner managed to fall asleep on the couch. Though I didn't know it yet this was the beginning of the end of the world, as I knew it.

The next morning I work up to the sound of singing, in some unique beautiful language that I'd never heard before and the smell of breakfast cooking. Walking into the kitchen I see Lucy standing at the stove in the clothes she fell asleep in cooking what looked like an omelette.

"Good morning" she said cheerfully, I wonder why she did that? She wasn't really happy; perhaps she thought that I didn't know any better. She slide's food on to two separate plates and placing one in front of me with a cup of what appeared to be black tea. Usually I didn't drink black tea, but after last night I had full confidence in her abilities in the kitchen. I took a sip and almost melted, it was beyond good.

"If I hadn't already adopted you I would be doing it now" I informed her, "What is this and where has it been all my life"

"It's called magic tea," she said with amusement, if this was tea we'd been doing it _wrong _for far to long. "Eat up, big day to day"

"Oh yes, were going shopping" I said eating happily. I was never cooking again, ever. She looked at me with pity, I wasn't sure why. "I see Athena has been," I indicated to the outfit that was folded nicely on the other end of the table.

"Yes she said something about needing something to where today and that she'd arranged for you to work from home to give you the chance to spend the day with you're _'new daughter_'" Lucy explained, "Also Sherlock is going to be here in twenty minutes to pick up his coat"

"Alright then, why don't you go have a shower then" I said watching her slipping over to the sink to rinse her plate, picked up the outfit and made her way to the bathroom.

My brother arrived about ten minutes later, promptly taking a seat at the table next to me. He looked troubled.

"She doesn't make sense" he said finally, "I don't now why, I can read everyone else so easily but it's like… it's like this isn't even her world." Stark disbelief coloured his tone, I didn't understand. I supposed that I didn't want to. She was nice. She was useful…

"I know' I sighed, "Doesn't matter though… does it bother you that we are already ready to ignore the things about her that don't add up"

"Didn't you're mother ever tell you that it's rude to talk about someone when there not in the room" Lucy said, drawing our attention to where she stood in the door way. The clothes that Athena had leant her included black stockings, a silver dress, black cardigan and boots. An ensemble that I have seen countless times on Athena… but when Lucy wore it, she looked regal. How does a fourteen year old pull of regal without seemingly trying?

"Well you should make sense," Sherlock said almost petulantly, except of course that the great Sherlock Holmes doest do _petulant_.

"No I wouldn't, would I?" she murmured, I don't think that we were meant to hear it though she visible snapped out of it with a patented fake smile. "So tell me, I've heard that you're clever… tell me how do I not make sense"

"Everything, form the way you knew those men were up to no good to the way you wear your clothes," he said ranting. "You wear you clothes like you're used to a completely different style, you have scars form things that no normal child could have encountered and you don't bother to hide them. A normal fourteen year old would be self conscious and try to cover them up."

"I earned them" she said simply, "I engaged in activities that caused me bodily harm and given the choice I would do it all again"

"And what would that be?" I questioned suitably intrigued. She shook her head and put a finger to her mouth.

"You don't even speak correctly" Sherlock said, she threw him an affronted look, "Rather you speak to correctly, teenagers usually don't and then there's the way that you so happy when your not"

"What makes you so sure that I'm not?" she shot back demurely, raising a single eyebrow. There it was again, regal… if I hadn't known better I would say that she was raised by royalty and I told her so. He began to laugh so hard that her eyes watered. That laughter was hollow.

"Not sad… you entire family was lost in a train wreak" Sherlock said, "Death _upsets _most people and they are most certainly dead. They don't like it when loved ones are gone"

"Not gone, home" she said smiling, she… she was only upset that she was left behind. "Now I believe that we have shopping to attend to"

"I thought you didn't take charity?" I asked puzzled at her happiness to be spending my money.

"No, but I'm not above taking advantage of a situation" she said taking Sherlock and I by the hand and walking out the door.

"What makes you think I'm coming?" Sherlock said horrified at the idea of doing so domestic as _shopping._

"Because I don't make sense and you can stand not knowing," Lucy said. He frowned; she him got him there. Checkmate little brother.

**There, now hopefully I can get on with my other stories, unless people review and then I'll take time to do this one. Hope you enjoyed.**


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